


Spoiled

by spookyknight



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2319923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyknight/pseuds/spookyknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose — and the TARDIS — are at a standstill. They need a gentle push in the right direction. What they get is a hard shove, from... the Doctor and Rose. (The TARDIS helps too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spoiler Alert!

**Author's Note:**

> a million thanks to foxmoon for her patience & being a fabulous beta

Rose was bored.  
  
Which was a feat on a time-and-space ship with the last of the Time Lords as her personal tour guide to the universe.  
  
Only they hadn’t been doing so much touring lately. Despite his reassuring words that the Beast in the pit had lied about her cruel fate, the Doctor seemed to be hiding her from all imagined threats in the confines of the TARDIS.  
  
Their break from traveling had actually started out great, as they spent their time leisurely discovering rooms deep within the ship or cuddled up in either the library reading or the media room for movie marathons. To Rose, it was a bit like a holiday. But they never put a name to it… much like they skirted labeling their ambiguous relationship. She thought spending more time alone was helping to change that.  
  
They’d been snuggling more frequently, allowing lingering touches and casual displays of intimacy — the way he spoke to her from the bedroom as she got ready for bed and she wandered into his bathroom in the morning to help him style his hair. And the way he looked at her when he thought she didn’t see…    
  
But then they woke up one morning in her bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms more like lovers than best friends, and it seemed to have the opposite effect. That day, the TARDIS suddenly had crucial repairs that couldn’t wait, but Rose knew better. He was avoiding her.  
  
Nothing had happened, not really, but it appeared just the idea of them being physically intimate was enough to scare him off.  
  
Now, she saw the Doctor at mealtimes, but after eating with her he would withdraw and she’d be left to amuse herself. The message seemed clear to her. Being alone together was too risky because he didn’t want them to give in to their feelings. And traveling was too dangerous because he was afraid to lose her.  
  
The Beast’s premonition scared her… but if her remaining days were short, this wasn’t how she wanted to spend them. She wanted their old life back; adventure, excitement, trouble and all. Even if it meant their relationship never progressed further.  
  
Surely he must be just as stir-crazy as she? If not moreso. It wasn’t like the Doctor to ever sit still. Her secret fear, that he would get bored of waiting around for the inevitable and send her home, was just as frightening to Rose as the thought of dying in battle. At least perishing with a fight, she’d be by his side. Going home to her old life… that was a fate worse than death.  
  
She found the Doctor in the console room, tinkering with one thing or another beneath the floor. He replaced the grating before she could ask about it, bounding around the console with his usual enthusiasm. He seemed excited at the prospect of their next trip, which made Rose wonder why he’d put if off for so long. Maybe the TARDIS really had needed repairs.  
  
“Where to?” His hands dashed across the controls before they even had a destination in mind. “Are we out of jam in the cupboard? We could go to the Ceres Nebula Arboretum! Nearly every tree in the universe there. Oh! Or we could go caroling on New Galla. It’s a bit like Christmas caroling but also a bit like Halloween — they don’t have either, of course, but you go singing door-to-door and get treats in return!”  
  
“Not a quick stop, Doctor. We should plan a whole tour of it. Like, say… let’s visit the Seven Wonders of the World! All seven — no leaving one out.”  
  
He made a thoughtful face and then frowned. “Seven Wonders of ancient Earth? We can do that any time. What you want is a Seven Wonders of the Galaxy tour! Now…”  
  
The Doctor busied himself with the coordinates and began lecturing on the merits of the Seven Wonders, but Rose was already starting to tune him out. Safe. She had this nagging feeling he was playing it safe, trying to stick to tourist destinations where he knew he could keep an eye on her.  
  
The last time he’d let her leave the ship with him was to visit a boring little fair on a sleepy little planet full of peace-loving hippy aliens to pick up what he called the best produce that side of the Fornax cluster. She had followed him around listening to the mundane tale of his last visit, filled a basket with his choice of fruits and vegetables, and returned to the ship. They’d landed the TARDIS to go to a glorified farmer’s market.  
  
Now, she got the feeling he was taking her to the space equivalent of Disneyland. But that felt wrong somehow, like she wasn’t really going to be seeing these planets, just heading straight to the resort and relaxing without learning a thing about the world and its peoples. It wasn’t their style, and she feared he’d get bored of that quickly.  
  
“Have you been?” she asked, cutting off his rambling.  
  
He paused, looking up at her. “To which one?”  
  
“Any of them? All of them?”  
  
“Well… may have done, at one point or another. Why?”  
  
“I want to go somewhere you haven’t been. Somewhere both of us haven’t been.”  
  
His face darkened. “I’d certainly never been to Krop Tor.”  
  
The subtle warning was not lost on her. But Rose wasn’t going to back down that easily.  
  
“No, but we didn’t plan to go there, either. And the TARDIS… Look, you can plan it, just… let’s go somewhere new.”  
  
“Somewhere new,” the Doctor repeated her words absently as he seemed to mull over her request.  
  
“A fun trip, yeah?” She smiled, hoping to placate his apprehension. “Some place you’ve heard is nice. Like… remember when we went to see the meteor shower on Iyproria?”  
  
That was a good night. Nothing alarming had happened. A priestess mistook them for a couple and gave them a blessing for long life and happiness. The Doctor never corrected her. They’d enjoyed a picnic on the hillside and reclined on his coat all night watching the stars.  
  
She wanted to remind him it could be like that too. They faced their fair share of danger, sure, but there were quiet days. Wonderful days that made it worth any troubles they faced.  
  
He gave a faint nod, flipped a few more switches, and swung the monitor around to have a look. “I’ve always heard the greatest things about the Floating Gardens of Tian.”  


* * *

  
The Gardens on Tian were indeed a wonder. Acres of land sprawled out on vast platforms floating at various altitudes above the planet’s lush surface. Each platform was encased in its own biosphere — a sort of invisible greenhouse — allowing individual microclimates to showcase different botanical styles.  
  
One featured traditional European landscaping, with manicured lawns, cultivated flower beds and boxwood hedges. Another boasted a cactus garden with small, prickly plants growing amongst the sand and rocks. Closer to the surface below, there was a labyrinth maze carved out over the entire platform.  
  
The TARDIS landed on the highest level, near the edge where they could peek through a torii gate down at the surfaces below. The grounds on their platform reminded her of their trip to Kyoto. The Japanese styled garden was an artful arrangement of water and vegetation. The stone steps leading their way were lined with thick green bushes and bright azaleas in full bloom.  
  
As they crossed a red wooden bridge over the little creek feeding the koi pond, the Doctor lectured about the gravitational mechanisms keeping the platforms in the air, the inspiration for paradise, and the hierarchical nature of heaven.  
  
“I still owe Dante Alighieri that trip on the TARDIS,” he said. “That was… oh, so long ago.”  
  
She wondered if he’d lied about never coming here before, he certainly seemed to know a lot about the design of this place.  
  
“So you meant to come before?” she asked, keeping her voice bright and curious.  
  
“Oh, yes. The Gardens are famed across the universe, any old clod with a ship would want to come here.” He shrugged. “But it’s just one of those things, isn’t it? You know it’s always here, there’s no rush to see it. Like living your whole life in London and never visiting Downing Street.”  
  
He gave her a pointed look, then, and she rolled her eyes.  
  
There were defined paths leading from one area of the garden to another, but Rose found herself drifting away from the assigned trail. She longed to rekindle the adventurous spirit she’d grown to love in their travels. She lead the way into the dense thicket of maple trees off to the side of the butterfly garden and the Doctor followed.  
  
The forest wasn’t all that exciting, just trees and underbrush and flickers of sunlight through the canopy of leaves above. Still, it was uncharted territory and Rose reveled in the very act of exploration.  
  
Her curiosity was rewarded when she heard sounds coming from what looked to be a clearing of trees further in the wooded area. She flashed a cheeky smirk back at the Doctor. He looked wary, but seemed to share in her interest to discover the source.  
  
As they neared the secluded glade, the noises became clearer. The sounds were human in origin, and reminiscent of lovers entangled in bliss. The loudest voice, decidedly female and ringing out loudly in the quiet, was eerily familiar.  
  
She could have sworn it was… but that was impossible. It gave Rose chills to hear it, but also sparked a deep wonder down to her very bones. The rational, human part of her was telling her to leave well enough alone, to turn back the way they came and enjoy the rest of their trouble-free outing. But a louder, more insistent part was screaming to find out.  
  
She had to know.  


* * *

  
“Rose!” The Doctor called from behind her, reaching for her, but she was already rushing ahead through the forest at a steady pace. “Rose, stop. Come back—“  
  
He dashed forward to catch her but kept quiet as they approached, lest they be discovered eavesdropping on the amorous tryst. Rose moved with single-minded determination, as though entranced, and he found it hard to reach her without giving themselves away. She didn’t stop until she reached the glade. When she did, she froze with a quiet gasp, shock registering on her face.  
  
There were indeed two lovers entwined in the clearing — it was _them_. An undoubtedly future pair of them right _there_ before their eyes.  
  
The future Rose was lying back on the grass, atop his long coat, but she was far from still. The Doctor, a future version of his very self, had his head buried between her thighs. The future Doctor was an active and enthusiastic participant, moving his mouth over her slick sex frantically. His tongue hidden between her folds, he hummed appreciatively into his work. More than just pleasuring her, he was fucking her with lips, teeth, and tongue.  
  
Completely lost to the sensations her future Doctor was creating, Rose thrashed wildly; head thrown back in a cascade of blond waves, eyes tightly shut and lips wide open, issuing inarticulate cries of rapture. Her hips rolled forward rhythmically and the Doctor held her legs tightly, encouraging rather than inhibiting her movements. He moved with her; guided by her fingers tugging helplessly at his thick brown hair. It was a beautiful sight, this practiced dance; the two of them completely wrapped up in one another, moving together in perfect harmony.  
  
The Doctor gawked with undisguised fascination. Wonder, confusion, and arousal fought for space in the chaos of his mind. He wanted to look over at Rose, _his_ Rose, to try and discern a clue as to what she was feeling, but he couldn’t look away from the erotic scene at the center of the clearing.  
  
Rose took a half-step forward, as though literally drawn to the spectacle, and the weight of her foot descending to the grass snapped a twig — a twig, of all things!  
  
The small sound was overwhelmed by the gasps and moans filling the clearing — but not to Time Lord ears. His future self opened his eyes and lifted his stare in their direction. It wasn’t clear if the future Doctor really saw them, as it seemed the interruption hadn’t distracted him from working to push his lover over the edge. But the intense, unfocused gaze sent an unpleasant chill up his spine; a sliver of ice to cool his ardor.  
  
He tore his eyes away, looking to Rose beside him, panicked as to how she might react to being discovered. She didn’t seem to notice. She was too focused on her future self, who was panting and moaning with abandon as she neared her release.  
  
“Let’s go,” the Doctor whispered harshly.  
  
He grabbed her hand, knowing full well he didn’t really have her concentration, and pulled Rose into step behind him. She followed numbly, still in a daze from what they’d seen.  
  
He stomped away from the clearing, tugging her along and speeding their pace with every step. The echoes of Rose’s future self coming apart seemed to follow them, the Doctor’s name ringing out in the forest among cries of total ecstasy.  


* * *

  
The Doctor rushed directly back to the TARDIS, Rose in tow. Upon entering his ship, he wasted no time in engaging the controls to send them far, far away from there. He wanted to run — an ancient instinct — to escape this reality and whatever it meant. But Rose was there beside him, looking to him desperately for answers.  
  
“What was that?” She asked urgently, trying to put herself in his field of vision but he kept moving, dodging, evading.  
  
He exhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t know.”  
  
He needed to stall. He was prolonging the sequence to send them out into the Vortex with a complicated, outdated manual process that was completely unnecessary. The TARDIS, clever girl, lurched in protest. Rose grabbed the console for purchase but the Doctor stayed upright by sheer determination, focusing intently on his task.  
  
“But that was _us_. Not plastic or a dream or something. Really, properly us. Right?” Rose swayed as the floor jostled beneath them. “It looked like us… sounded like us…”  
  
“Yeah…” He leaned heavily against the console as the TARDIS dematerialized from Tian.  
  
She was right, although he didn’t tell her that explicitly. The complete astonishment of witnessing themselves together like that had stripped down his defenses, allowing him to perceive both extremely familiar bio-signatures.  
  
“So what’s gonna happen now?” Her voice rose in pitch as her worry escalated, fueled by his uncertainty. “We saw _ourselves_. Is there gonna be a paradox?”  
  
“I don’t know,” he repeated, a little more distraught as he scrubbed his hands through his hair.  
  
That wasn’t entirely true. Signs currently didn’t point to a paradox. While he felt a certain discomfort in meeting the darkened stare of his future self, there did not appear to be any fractures in either Rose’s timeline or his. In fact, events seemed to be following in concert with the forward momentum of the time stream.  
  
The Doctor, however, couldn’t imagine any plausible series of events that took them from here to there. It frightened him, not knowing. Seeing something he wanted so badly and knowing all the reasons he shouldn’t hope to achieve it.  
  
“Doctor…”  
  
Her expression was hopeful and earnest, searching for answers he wasn’t ready to give. He needed time. Time to sort out where the hell they were supposed to go from here. And to calm down. The vision of Rose in sublime pleasure was still fresh in his mind.  
  
What would possess him to do that with her? What would possess _them_ to engage in such activities out in the open like that? Not aboard the TARDIS or even indoors. No bedsheets or clothes to speak of, nothing to obscure their view of every feature and movement.  
  
It was tortuous, the graphic recollection of watching his tongue exploring the very place he so wanted to taste, his mouth bringing her pleasure and his fingers touching her skin — no, not his mouth, not his hands… not _him_. Some lucky bastard from another time, wearing his face. He felt guilty for the overwhelming arousal it inspired despite his worry. It didn’t help that Rose was right here, fueling the images in his head.  
  
“I just…” He put some distance between them as he backed up towards the corridor. “I need to think.”  
  
“No…” Rose protested, rushing after him. “You’re not running away from this. From me.” The last was uttered quietly, in a small voice that nearly shattered his hearts. She reached out, grabbing his hand and threading their fingers together. He stopped, the familiar contact grounding him, and her expression softened. “Talk to me. Please. We need to figure out what’s going on.”  
  
She looked up at him with such open, honest concern. Her eyes dewy and searching; her lower lip trembling so slightly a human man wouldn’t pay it a passing thought. But not him. His eyes were drawn in, reminded of those lips parted in gasps of pleasure rather than unease. He didn’t realize he was leaning in until he was already too close, his breath just barely gracing her face.  
  
“Rose…”  
  
He was captivated by the way memory fused with reality. He’d fantasized before, but this was so much stronger. He had context now — not a fabricated image cobbled together from scattered knowledge, but a complete picture — real, alive, kinetic. He’d witnessed the actuality of finally acting out his desires, and it was more beautiful than any dream.  
  
Rose bit her quivering bottom lip, the stark white of her teeth digging into the soft flesh enough to break his reverie; a gesture of uncertainty, not invitation.  
  
He sighed, the sound reluctant to his own ears. “We can’t…”  
  
“We can,” she whispered, shaking her head vaguely. “We _do_. You saw that.”  
  
She was beautiful; flushed and captivated and breathless before him. A living temptation. It would be so satisfying to give in, to capture her lips and crush her body to his. Then more, he wanted so much more with Rose.  
  
And yet, he’d promised himself not to act on these desires. There were reasons — important, carefully crafted reasons why he couldn’t.  
  
Even if there weren’t, he couldn’t take advantage of her now. He was obviously affected by what they had seen, the tempting possibilities crashing through his usually stalwart defenses. He was fighting his body’s reaction, trying to keep his breathing even and his endocrine system in check. He was fighting the magnetic pull that kept him here, the asymptotic curve that approached but never touched the limit.  
  
If _he_ was flustered and excited, he could only guess the chaos unfolding in her mind. She may not have been thinking clearly.  
  
“Time is in flux.”  
  
His protest sounded weak to his own ears. They were so close now, the empty space created by their height difference seemed the only factor keeping their lips apart. If she just popped up on her toes…  
  
“But this has to happen now, right? I mean, we’ve seen it.”  
  
He stepped back, dropping her hand and breaking the spell of their proximity. Averting his eyes, he swallowed purposefully, wavering between crushing her hopes with the truth or trying to craft an elegant lie. Then again, he couldn’t think of any story he could spin that wouldn’t upset her.  
  
He didn’t want to hurt her, but there were truths she needed to know; possible explanations for the actions of his future self.  
  
“There’s —“ He hedged, flustered. “It’s complicated, there may be extenuating circumstances.”  
  
Her eyebrows shot up her forehead in disbelief. “Like what?”  
  
“There are chemicals,” he muttered impatiently. “Plants and compounds that can affect the human endocrine system. Sometimes the only cure to prevent a neural lapse is… bringing the patient to orgasm.”  
  
Rose gaped at him, clearly dumbfounded by this revelation. She looked hurt, brows furrowed and lips twisting into a frown.  
  
“So you would do that?” She planted her hands on her hips; her stance challenging. “Go down on me because I got drugged?”  
  
“To save you!”  
  
“Did it really look like I was in any trouble back there?”  
  
He sputtered, unable to form a coherent response to that. The couple in the clearing had certainly seemed to share equal enjoyment from their semi-public amorous encounter.  
  
“Right.” She scoffed, a bitter bite entering her tone. “Because the only way we’d be intimate together is if I was gonna die.”  
  
“I didn’t say that.”  
  
He had feared sharing that possibility would wound her… but she had to know. In case it was true. He couldn’t bear having her make a decision on their future solely based on an image with no context.  
  
It tore him apart that he _didn’t_ know. That he couldn’t tell her with any certainty what possessed them to embark on a — decidedly adventurous — sexual relationship, and therefore assure her everything would be all right. He had no idea. He couldn’t be sure anything would be all right ever again. And that sobering thought frightened him completely.  
  
Rose huffed, her breath shifting a lock of hair from her face. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”  
  
“Rose…” He pleaded, reaching for her hand again.  
  
She dodged his grasp. “Don’t.”  
  
He watched her retreating back, feeling grim and bereft. His earlier panic shifted, from the fear of the unknown future to the utter terror that she might leave him. What would he do then, without her? If his idiocy, his reluctance to give in to his desires — presumably _their_ desires — was what made him lose her?  
  
What if he shattered the very possibility of the future they'd witnessed together? Would she no longer receive him with open arms? Touch his face in comfort? Cuddle during their lazy days? Comb her fingers through his hair when he was feeling drowsy? Or worse. What if she no longer held his hand?  
  
With a deep, bracing breath, the Doctor followed Rose down the corridor.


	2. Sneak Preview

Rose tried to lose herself in the warm spray of the shower, focusing on the way the cascading water massaged her tense muscles, and forget everything else that was happening. It was a futile endeavor. Her mind inevitably drifted back to the Doctor, and then of course to the very public show of her future Doctor going down on her.  
  
She remembered with painful clarity the total pleasure on the face of her future self — every lustful sound and movement. And, come to think of it, the genuine enjoyment of her Doctor; completely engrossed in the task of bringing her pleasure, moaning against her flesh and rocking his hips subtly in the ground, straining for a bit of friction.  
  
Despite what her current Doctor had said about the likelihood of their encounter being somehow _necessary_ due to some unforeseen circumstance or another, it certainly didn’t seem like it from what she saw. From where she was standing, they had witnessed two lovers, lost in one another and adoring every second.  
  
Given the Doctor’s reaction, however, it was a future she didn’t dare to hope for. Instead of advancing their slow crawl towards romance, stumbling upon the scene seemed to be setting them back further once again. She could already predict him retreating back into himself — disappearing into the bowels of the TARDIS and blowing off any attempt to discuss the event or what it meant.  
  
She missed him when he ran away. His absence only encouraged her conflicted thoughts. When he was there beside her, she was content with holding his hand or cuddling innocently in the Library. When he was gone, her thoughts turned more intimate… to his clever fingers dancing over her skin, his tongue sneaking out to taste her, his bottom lip caught between her teeth.  
  
And now, she had visuals and audio to fuel her fantasies. Already her hands were wandering in opposite directions over her slick skin — one up towards her breast and the other snaking down the plane of her stomach to — _no_.  
  
She stopped herself with a bitten back groan, trying to swallow the arousal and frustration buzzing in her body. She couldn’t do this while he was out there, needlessly panicking and building up walls between them.  
  
Rose had to find him, to set thing straight and — if need be — pretend all was well when it really, really wasn’t. If all he ever wanted was to be mates, chronically platonic, then she would have to be happy with that. Anything as long as he let her stay by his side.  
  
She shut off the water and dried off quickly, trying to ignore the sparks that shot through her as the towel grazed her breasts and thighs. Okay, she and the Doctor really did need to talk. But she wondered if she could focus when she was this wound up.   
  
Maybe just a quick wank in the bedroom, then off to find him.  
  


* * *

  
His stupid, bloody ship was in mutiny against him. Sequestered in the safety of his room, the Doctor could hear the shower running in Rose’s en suite thanks to the TARDIS’s meddling with her internal acoustics.  
  
He knew what his ship was trying to do. And the worst part was… it was working. Spread out on his hardly-used bed, the knowledge that Rose was currently naked in the shower combined with the precise memories of their future selves so intimately entwined threatened to overwhelm him.  
  
Only through the advantage of superior biology had the Doctor managed to curb his arousal this long. Now, with no other distractions to divert him and the sound of warm water falling on slick skin to excite him, there was an insistent pressure between his legs that demanded attention. Every minimal movement, from breathing to shifting on the mattress, increased his perception of the erection straining against the fabric of his trousers.  
  
His desire awakened, it was unlikely to subside any time soon. When she finished her shower, Rose would inevitably come looking for him. How would he face her rationally with this arousal clouding his thoughts?  
  
It seemed his body had already come to that conclusion, as his hand drifted down over the muscles of his abdomen, rippling in anticipation, to press his palm down on his cock that was already hard and aching to be touched.   
  
His mind was still undecided on this course of action, but the small comfort of friction his hand provided seemed enough to convince his fingers. He tore at his clothing, shoving fabric out of the way, the faster the better to reach skin.  
  
He imagined smaller hands, soft and feminine with chipped nail polish, pulling his tie loose from his neck, freeing the buttons of his shirt, working at the closures of his trousers and stretching the elastic of his pants carefully over his bobbing erection. When his hand closed around his cock and he sighed with the first experimental strokes, it didn’t matter so much. A soothing calm enveloped his mind, bringing ease to the heavy tension held within his hand.  
  
The Doctor pulled his hand away to shrug off his shirt and the pleasant sensation abated, replaced with a sobering sense of self-reproach. He should know better than to give in to such base desires, especially when his friendship with Rose — which meant the universe to him — teetered on such unstable ground.  
  
But then, inevitably, thoughts of Rose brought to mind her beautiful enraptured face and all the ways he could inspire that reaction in her. His mind flooded with the sensory details of their encounter in the garden and embellished from there. He somehow felt more justified, knowing his pleasure was all for her. Hoping that someday they’d share it, as in the forbidden scene witnessed on Tian.  
  
His hand found its way back to his cock almost magnetically. As he stroked himself, the world narrowed to the enjoyment of stimulation. The actions escalated in a steadily increasing and hypnotic rhythm, until his hand massaged along his cock of its own accord, automatically timing its beat to fuel the crescendo of his desire.  
  
He ceased trying to control his breathing, allowing the uneven panting along with the erratic beating of his hearts to heighten his sensual experience. Images spiraled in his mind — Rose on her knees peering up at him from under thick lashes, Rose straddling him with golden hair falling wild around her face, Rose smiling with her full lips wrapped around the head of his cock. Each slide of his fist, up and down, encasing his sensitive length in the most intimate caress, felt better than the last.   
  
The Doctor gave himself over, a slave to the pleasure invading every corner of his mind. All thoughts of stopping were banished. It was good, so good, and his hips began rocking instinctively, arching and thrusting, anything to enhance the gratification of the tension building deep within himself.   
  
He felt a wave of warmth pass over him along with her enticing scent, almost too palpable to be imagined. The Doctor uttered her name in broken syllables as the pressure in his groin reached nearly unbearable fruition. His muscles tensed, ragged breathing halted, and he surrendered to the wild, instinctual movements of his hand; driven by a force completely independent of his conscious mind.  
  
 _Fuck._  
  
He was going to come. He was going to come hard.  
  
The Doctor opened his eyes, driven by some primal force to witness his impending prolific release, and caught movement beyond the focus of his gaze. The distraction redirected his attention to the door swinging open to reveal the very object of his fantasy; a very _real_ and very stunned Rose.  
  
Part of him was aware of what this meant. He forced the frenzied movement of his hand on his shaft to stop — but nothing could delay the inevitable. Already beyond the point of no return, the Doctor was a bystander to his own orgasm. He cried out involuntarily as powerful contractions, fueled by the spike in an already cresting arousal, sent spurting ropes of seed from his spasming cock to land on his abdomen and chest.   
  
For ten seconds, there was nothing else but the bliss of release. He stared at Rose unseeing; her gorgeous visage in only a towel fueling his pleasure without his awareness or permission. Climax, it seemed, was the great equalizer. Though part of his Time Lord mind was already analyzing the consequences of this blunder, the forefront of his brain was seized with pleasure.  
  
It felt slow, the way relief and satisfaction finally gave way to guilt and embarrassment as comprehension of his surroundings returned, but in truth it all transpired within seconds. Her face, twisted with a mixture of morbid curiosity and shame. Her eyes, darting from the solid weight of his length in hand up to his face and over the sticky mess in between, as though they didn’t know where to land. The dumbstruck stillness of her body and the disappointment etched into her astonished frown.  
  
The TARDIS, in her continued meddling, had moved Rose’s en suite door to open upon his room. No wonder the sound of her showering had been so loud. He needed to fix this, and quickly, but his post-orgasmic mind was hazy and slow to catch up.  
  
“Rose.”  
  
Her name reached out into the silence between them, low and hoarse, his voice barely recognizable. For a hasty moment, she met his pleading gaze with her own panicked expression, before hurriedly fleeing the room through the open bathroom doorway.  
  
The Doctor dropped his head on the pillow as the door slammed shut with a loud _thunk_ that sent his hopes of repairing his fracturing relationship with Rose crashing to the ground.   
  


* * *

  
Rose let her back fall against the closed door, body trembling as shock, embarrassment, and arousal warred for dominance in her rattled mind. Expecting her own bedroom and opening the door to find the Doctor in the throes of orgasm by his own hand had thrown her for a loop. He’d been surprised by her sudden entrance but he’d still enjoyed himself. She could tell… the strain in his voice, the pleasure written on his face, the sight of his come spilling out over his body…

Feeling her knees give out, she slid heavily down the to the floor with a frustrated sigh.  
  
That was the second time today she’d watched one or both of them consumed in pleasure. She squeezed her thighs together, warding off both sets of images from her mind. As she’d entered the room, she swore she heard the Doctor moan her name — but Rose was sure that was just wishful thinking. After everything he’d said in the console room…  
  
Rose startled as she heard the door handle rattle above her. She became suddenly grateful she’d thought to lock the door.  
  
“Rose?” The Doctor’s voice was small and hesitant.  
  
She didn’t answer right away. What was there to say? Surely the locked door told him everything he needed to know. She heard his heavy sigh and the dull thud of his head hitting the door, followed but the soft rustle of him sliding down to rest against the wood just as she was leaning on the other side.  
  
A thrill chased through her, despite her uncertain feelings towards him right now, at the thought of the Doctor so close with only an inch of wood separating them. But for as contradicting as he’d been in the past few hours, it may as well have been the widest chasm isolating her from him and the true feelings he dared not to share with her.  
  
“I’m sorry.” He spoke suddenly, jarring Rose from her thoughts.  
  
Well. That was a promising start. Or maybe not. She wondered _why_ he was sorry. She was about to ask him when he continued.  
  
“I… I was just looking for a towel.”  
  
Her whole body flushed with the implication of his request. She swallowed down her embarrassment before attempting a reply.  
  
“Do you still need…” Rose bit her lip, unable to finish her sentence.  
  
There was a brief silence before he cleared his throat and answered.  
  
“No. I found something.”  
  
Rose closed her eyes, trying not to imagine just what the Doctor had used in his bedroom to clean up. Was his shirt now soiled with the evidence of his release? She cursed her overactive imagination.  
  
“You wanted to talk,” he said. “Before. Properly. About…” She heard the back of his head thump against the door again and her heart almost went out to him. Because for some reason he was making this very difficult on himself. But then she remembered what a git he was being about all of this. The Doctor coughed discreetly, tried again. “You wanted me to stay. With you. And now I’m here. To talk, or… whatever you want.”  
  
Rose scoffed. “This sudden willingness to talk wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that the TARDIS has locked us in these respective rooms, would it?”  
  
“Ah…” She could just about picture him opening his mouth. Closing it. “About that.”  
  
He went quiet. She inhaled deeply through her nose, gathering patience to prompt him. “About that?”  
  
He swallowed purposefully, the normally quiet sound loud in the silence between them.   
  
“Do you want to go home?”  
  
“ _What_?”  
  
How dare he! After everything they’d — she _promised_ him. Rose couldn’t believe it.   
  
Before she could protest, emphatically, he quickly added, “Because I hope you don’t. But if you do —“  
  
“I don’t.”  
  
He exhaled roughly. “Good.”  
  
He seemed so relieved that she felt a faint glimmer of hope. If nothing else, he still wanted her around. That was a start.  
  
“Is that what you’re afraid of?”  
  
“You were upset.”  
  
She rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t see it. “I was more upset by your reaction than what we saw. That it’d be so unbearable or unlikely.”  
  
“I don’t —“  
  
“I know.” She sighed, weary of the same old excuse.  
  
“You didn’t let me finish. I don’t know the events that led up to… what we saw. So I don’t want us to make any decisions based on that. We can’t —”  
  
“Tell me why.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Tell me why we can’t.”  
  
“Rose —“ He paused and she envisioned his hand running messily through his hair; his fingers tugging nervously on his ear. “I did! Time is in flux.”  
  
“No,” she corrected him. “Time is in flux is a fact, not a reason. That means the paths can go either way. We do, or we don’t. You’re saying we can’t. I want to know why.”  
  
He tripped over his words, apparently rendered speechless. Rose gave herself the small victory.  
  
“I…” He hedged. “I don’t know. That’s the thing, Rose, I don’t know what will happen.”  
  
“So we’re just going to avoid it, then. Like we keep avoiding trouble because you’re afraid of what’s gonna happen to me.”  
  
“That’s not —“  
  
“It’s been three weeks, Doctor.” Her voice rose darkly with the reminder. “We’ve left the TARDIS twice!”  
  
“I don’t want to lose you, Rose!” She flinched at the loud outburst and he withered, adding in a small voice, “I can’t.”  
  
“Well I don’t want to wander around your ship alone. Boring myself to death until I finally do—“  
  
“Don’t say it.” He begged. “Please.”  
  
Rose turned, pressing her hand against the wooden door, cool under her palm. “Why are these rooms connected? Tell me what’s going on with the TARDIS.”  
  
He sighed and she heard shuffling as he too seemed to rearrange himself.  
  
“The TARDIS and I are linked, you remember? She… sometimes interprets telepathic signals from my subconscious. Translating as she sees fit.”  
  
“So _you’re_ keeping us in here?”  
  
“Erm… Not… ah… Partially? Inadvertently.” He kept talking, as though each excuse was more plausible than the last. “Not on purpose.”  
  
Rose swallowed hard, gathering all her courage to take the leap of faith she felt they both needed to move forward. He could chuck her out of his life forever with what she was about to do, but if she didn’t risk it she feared the alternative was haunting the halls of the TARDIS for the rest of her lonely existence.  
  
“And when the TARDIS let me into your room… was that… a subconscious signal?”  
  
A long silence followed her brave question but she expected that. She nearly held her breath, filling her lungs in shallow bursts lest she miss even the smallest admittance on his behalf. In the quiet she could hear his breathing, harsher and deeper as, she assumed, he contemplated what he felt safe revealing to her.  
  
“I was thinking of you.” He spoke roughly, his words sparking desire low in her belly. “And the TARDIS saw fit to deliver you to me.”  
  
Rose licked her lips, trying to control the racing of her heart but it was no use. “When? When did you think of me?”  
  
“Rose.”  
  
His voice took on the same low intonation as before, when she stood in his room gaping at him in all his post-orgasmic glory. The rich timbre of her name seemed to vibrate the wood between them, sending pleasant shivers over her skin. Her hands found their way to her abdomen, fluttering with excitement, before skating up over her chest still encased in the fluffy towel wrapped securely around her body.   
  
“Is that why you called me?” She asked breathlessly, palming her breasts and finally, finally stoking the embers of arousal that she desperately wanted to set aflame. “Why you said my name?”  
  
“Stop that,” he said.  
  
But the order held no weight behind it. There was a raw intensity to his inflection that shot right through her. As though in defiance, one hand slipped beneath the towel to caress her inner thighs, in sweeping circles that neared her center with every pass.  
  
She smirked at her own boldness. “Stop what?”  
  
The Doctor growled on the other side of the door. Under any other circumstance, the sound might have frightened her. As it was, she bit her lip to keep from whimpering.  
  
“I can tell.” He began, then stopped. Gathered himself and began again. “When you’re aroused. I can see it, the way your skin flushes, hear your pulse quicken, smell the changes in your pheromones.”  
  
As he spoke, she squeezed the soft flesh of her breast in one hand gently, trailing the fingers of her other hand to test the slickness of her folds. Her lips parted, breath coming more heavily, and she realized — rather belatedly — that the tone of their conversation had shifted, from an examination of their future to a deliberate seduction.   
  
“It’s for you.” Her confession tumbled out on a deep moan as her fingers finally teased around the sensitive bundle of nerves that craved friction. “It’s always been you.”  
  
“Rose…” He was panting now and she reveled in how sexy, how powerful that made her feel. “Please open the door.”  
  
“Why? What will you do when I let you in?”  
  
His answer was an unintelligible groan — some incoherent syllables or a word the TARDIS refused to translate. All that mattered was the breathless strain in his voice; the way it curled, warm and dark and low in her belly, making her brave and enticing her to fan the flames.   
  
“Do you know what I started in the shower?”   
  
Rose traced her thumb around the center of her breast, a little too deliberate to be teasing. The terrycloth rubbed over her nipple, the sensation making her shiver at the enhanced contact. The circuit connected; pleasure sparkling from her touch and burning a hot path between her legs and back again. Her breath stuttered; her words coming out broken and halted on a moan.  
  
“Didn’t get to finish.”  
  
She tried to reach her fingers lower but found the position awkward with her back to the door. Rose scooted to the side so that her shoulders leaned against the wall of the bathtub, with her legs open wide and knees bent with her feet flat on the rug.   
  
The wider stance allowed her access, so she could slip two fingers inside. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted but it was solid, tangible. Something for her inner muscles to clamp down on.  She imagined what she really wanted there and whimpered as the thought sent a rush of pleasure through her body.  
  
On the other side of the door, she heard shuffling. “What are you doing?” The Doctor sounded tense and frustrated; on a razor’s edge of arousal. Just the way she felt. Just the way she wanted him. “Tell me.” He didn’t bother to disguise the pleading note in his voice.   
  
_Now_ he wanted her. Just as soon as she was out of reach. His voice betrayed that. But she wanted him to say it. Needed him to admit it, to commit to it.  
  
“Tell me,” she said, parroting his words right back. “What you’ll do if I let you in.”  
  
One hand worked between her legs and the other found her breast, left naked by the towel that slipped when she rearranged herself. She moaned at the spike of sensation when nimble fingers tweaked her nipple while her thumb swiped just _there._ The vocal reaction was genuine but the volume deliberate. She wanted him to hear.  
  
When he spoke it surprised her; she posed the question without really expecting an answer. His reply came rough and clumsy, as though torn from his thoughts before he could censor it.  
  
“I'd do whatever it took to hear you make that sound again.”  
  
She closed her eyes and allowed the movements of her own hands and the sound of his words to sweep her away. The tension was already climbing. She just needed that little push over the crest so she could fall. All for him.  
  
“Want you.”  
  
The words poured from her mouth instinctively, a candid admittance to match his own. Rose pressed the heel of her hand down firmly against the pubic bone, the pressure enhancing her pleasure. So close, now.  
  
“Yes.” He sounded so near, she could her him panting, his voice nearly a growl. “Let me in.”   
  
The door shook and she heard the Doctor groan softly on the other side. She imagined him aroused again, so soon after relieving himself, all because of her. The image wrenched a moan from her throat that he echoed.  
  
 “Rose, please…”  
  
It was enough. Her name on his lips, pleading, knowing he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She threw her head back, felt the first twinges of bliss in the pit of her belly and the answering shudder up her spine. Her orgasm was there, just out of reach. She wanted it, wanted him, _please_ … so close… just a little more…   
  
“ _Doctor_ —“  
  
Rose begged for him, too, and the TARDIS heeded her.  
  
The lock clicked and he barreled through the doorway on his knees — disheveled trousers open and hanging from his hips, erection standing proudly, wild hair and a half-mad look in his eyes. She was too far gone to do anything but surrender to her climax. The picture he provided, though, made falling all the sweeter.  
  
Her body writhed as ecstasy swept through her, white-hot and burning, leading with electric exhilaration and leaving satiation in its wake. She struggled to keep her eyes open, watching perfect awe come over the Doctor’s face. As the pleasure ebbed, Rose sank back against the outside wall of the tub, letting her muscles relax in the afterglow.   
  
Withdrawing two fingers from her sex to rest her hand on her thigh, her eyes skittered down to see his cock twitch in sympathetic desire. She took a moment to assess the tautness of his muscles, the hands clenched in fists at his sides, the raw passion blazing in his eyes. Rose couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk on her face if she tried.   
  
“Now we’re even.” Rose tried for assertive but her voice came out breathless. She offered him an elated smile; it was all the invitation she could muster in her worn out state. “Start over?”  
  



	3. Teaser Trailer

The Doctor crossed the room swiftly, with more grace than any man on his knees ought to have. But he wasn’t just a man, he was a Time Lord with a purpose; a vassal supplicant to her desire and to his need to touch her, to taste her. And now…  
  
Now there was nothing to prevent him. All those doubts and fears drowned out by the siren song of Rose in pleasure. Every possibility thrown wide open the moment that door gave way.  
  
She watched him with hooded eyes, still bonelessly leaning against the outer wall of her bathtub, knees spread apart as though in invitation.  
  
In a moment he was before her, reaching out and watching her eyes follow the movement as his hand grasped hers, lifting her arm above her splayed knees until her fingers reached his eager mouth. His tongue led the chase, sneaking out to taste as he drew two petite digits past his lips, relishing every nuance of the slippery, musky temptation of her arousal coating the salty sweet flavor of her skin.  
  
He groaned at the satisfaction of finally feeling her, soft and warm as he always imagined she’d be, under his fingers and on his tongue. He was trembling; overcome.  
  
Rose sat up and pulled him down into the circle of her arms, his narrow hips fitting easily between her open legs. She held him, stroking his hair, cooing gently.  
  
She was trying to calm him but he didn’t want calm. He wanted to raise her back up, to see her roused and desperate for him again. He wanted to feel the rapture he had just witnessed for himself.  
  
The Doctor rutted his hips instinctively, eliciting a gasp from them both when his erection slid easily along her slick folds. Without pretense, Rose had pressed every inch of her body against his, willingly entangling him in her naked embrace. No lengthy build up, hesitation, or romantic overtures. Just their bodies coming together, as it always meant to be it seemed.  
  
He moved again, rocking his hips forward and crying out at the rapturous feeling. This was too fast. There was an ordered process to crossing the line of making love to your best friend and it didn’t begin on the bathroom floor. Right?  
  
“I should stop,” he said, but the gravelly realization sounded more pleading than commanding and was indeed at odds with his actions, as the words poured out between sloppy open-mouthed kisses along her neck. “We should… ah—“  
  
 _Go to the bed_ , he meant to say, but the words were lost on a whimper as she sunk her fingers into his hair, nails scratching delightfully over his scalp.  
  
“No.”  
  
Rose mustered more authority in her answer, supporting her demand with the hungry and sincere motions of her body responding to him. She rocked her hips in time with his visceral thrusting, grinding against his cock in such delicious friction he couldn’t help but grunt out his gratitude despite his vocal reluctance.  
  
“ _Rose_. Tell me—”  
  
“Shut up,” she ordered, more emphatically than before, rolling her hips higher, trying to align his tip with her entrance. “Fuck me.”  
  
He licked his lips, summoning the last shreds of his restraint to check one more time. “Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Apparently tired of his indecision, Rose pushed him to the ground and climbed on top of him.  
  
“I want this, with you,” she admitted. “Not because of something we saw, and definitely not starting today.”  
  
She wanted him. He’d always hoped — okay, rather heavily suspected — that she truly desired him. But now she had confirmed it. He couldn’t deny her. Not when he wanted this more than anything in the universe.  
  
The Doctor planted his feet on the ground, his knees bent and hips lifting up, desperate to make that final connection. She was poised right there, just out of reach.  
  
“Do you want me?”  
  
Her low, raspy voice speaking those words was like something out of his dreams, save for the hesitant, inquiring undertone, which he’d be fucking sure to dispel presently.  
  
“Yes,” he gasped, grabbing the outside of her thighs and trying to guide her hips closer to where he needed her.  
  
She shifted and just like that, he was inside. No resistance, no complication. His cock glided effortlessly through her slippery folds, a welcomed visitor.  
  
His head fell back, only the rug cushioning the impact against the tiled floor beneath them. He groaned helplessly as she settled more firmly atop him until he was buried to the hilt. And then nothing mattered but the feel of her silken heat surrounding him — the perfection of them coming together as physically close as two humanoid beings could be.  
  
It still wasn’t enough.  
  
He pulled her down to him. Now he could feel her skin against his, the comfort of her weight pressing onto his chest. He needed more, to be closer still. He kissed her and she responded eagerly — lips and tongues sliding carelessly together as they rutted on the floor in a wanton spectacle of desire.  
  
Rose pulled back from their kiss and leveraged her hands on his chest to pull herself up. For a moment, a curtain of hair covered her face. But as her hips pushed down to meet his, she tossed the golden waves over her shoulder with a moan. There she was. His goddess, his Fortuna, sitting proudly on his cock with a feral smile that revealed the wolf within.  
  
The Doctor grasped her hips, holding her in place as he fucked her from below. She leaned back, exposing the whole plane of her naked body to his hungry eyes, from the hot, slick place they were joined to her gorgeous face contorted in pleasure. The change in angle drew cries from them both; the penetration deeper, the friction heightened.  
  
It was too good to last.  
  
He grunted her name — in rapture, in warning… in protest that this moment couldn’t endure forever. Rose lifted heavy lids and gazed down at him through her lashes with eyes drunk on the tension mounting between them.  
  
“Let go,” she said.  
  
A command and permission at once. She wanted to see him fall. He wanted nothing more than to tumble down with her.  
  
He brought his hand down from her waist, pressing the heel of his palm between her legs, pressing her within and without in the places he knew would take her to the brink. Rose’s hips fell out of rhythm as she rocked forward, grinding into his hand while he continued to pound his cock inside her with an urgent pace that begged her release.  
  
Her undulating hips complemented the escalating tempo he’d set for a few moments before she stilled, her breath catching in concentration as she reached for that elusive spark that would set her body aflame. All at once, she was shuddering and calling out as her inner muscles fluttered gorgeously around him.  
  
The Doctor supported her as her body went boneless, managing a few powerful thrusts before joining her in oblivion. His hips lifted from the floor, pressing in as deeply as he could, everything in the universe but _Rose_ dissolving into the darkness behind his closed eyes as he emptied his whole self into her — body and soul.  
  
There was quiet in the bathroom, save for their ragged breathing. There was movement as Rose collapsed and he gathered her gently on his chest, but neither was really aware of it. The two lovers rode out their bliss still entwined, jolting slightly with the twinges of remembered ecstasy but otherwise remaining stationary, cuddled together as the sweat began to cool on their skin.  
  
Rose finally shifted her head, the better to breathe, and he trembled slightly as her hair tickled his chin.  
  
“S’good, yeah? No regrets?” she whispered, lips moving against his collarbone.  
  
He nearly snorted, but it came out more as a breathless chuckle. “Sorry, I can't comprehend that statement. I'm too thoroughly satisfied.” She giggled and he brought his arms around to squeeze her, reveling in the sensation of their naked bodies pressed together. “You?”  
  
Rose scooted her upper body to the side, so she could look at him, but not enough to dislodge him from inside her. It seemed she didn’t want him to leave just yet, and it was just as well… he didn’t want to either.  
  
“Nope.” She flashed a cheeky grin. “Not even the first time on a bath rug.”  
  
The Doctor scoffed.  
  
“We could have moved to the bed when I suggested it.”  
  
Rose huffed and rolled her eyes. “You could have done this to begin with instead of being so pig-headed.”  
  
“Touché,” he agreed, his voice soft. “So not _no_ regrets.”  
  
She smiled at him, a dreamy expression that definitely looked more like satisfaction than remorse.  
  
“Turned out well.”  
  
He nodded in agreement, running a hand through her hair and studying the contented look on her face.  
  
“You're beautiful.”  
  
Rose guffawed. “We already shagged. Sweet talk comes first, you've got it backwards!”  
  
“We went about the whole thing backwards,” he reminded her. “Our bits touched before our lips did.”  
  
Despite their recent activities and current entanglement, she blushed. Her eyes averted towards his neck and she tried to hide a demure smile in his shoulder as the alluring flush colored her checks. She was so sincere in her response, so beautifully endearing — so... _his_. The Doctor felt his cock jump to attention where they were still joined, and by her squeak, he knew Rose did too.  
  
“You want an encore already?”  
  
She sounded surprised but delighted and he inwardly praised his superior biology for making that a possibility. But he knew that as much as he did want to lose himself in her again, they probably needed to sort a few things out first. They hadn’t really properly talked before the situation escalated to… well… shagging on the floor of her en suite.  
  
“I want to know what you want,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Because it’s yours. Anything you want.”  
  
Rose propped herself up on her forearms, smiling down at him.  
  
 “I want to go to that big bed of yours,” she replied. “And this time, I want to be the one that makes you come.”  
  
The Doctor cupped her face, running his thumb over the apple of her cheek.  
  
“Oh, Rose.” He shook his head faintly with a wry smile. “It was always you.”

    

* * *

   

_Many shags later..._

   
Rose writhed and thrashed on the jump seat, back arching and hips rocking like waves rolling into shore. Her fingers dug into the cushion below, an involuntary reflex best suited for an inanimate object at this stage. The Doctor kept her at the precipice, having worked her up to the edge and back down several times with just his mouth.  
  
He skirted his tongue just shy of where she needed it — keeping the pressure steady, so rhythmic and insistent that she couldn’t back down, but not enough to push her over. Half of her was begging him to let her fall, the other half never wanted this to end.

When she was this far gone, everything around them faded.  
  
Her hands clutched the seat beneath her, calves brushed against the fabric of his shirt, and her feet were braced on the edge of the console, but all these points of contact felt distant and far away as she floated on a cloud of euphoria. Her world narrowed to the places he touched her; his mouth on her sex and his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs. His touch was the only thing that mattered.  
  
Just as the tension bordered the pleasurable side of pain, the Doctor made his move, bearing down with his mouth and enveloping her swollen bundle of nerves in his lips with gentle suction. Rose cried out, anticipating the flicker of his tongue — _there_ , just _there_ , _please_ — it was all she needed and she looked down her body, catching his stare, dark and heady, as the tip of his tongue fluttered just the way she craved.  
  
It was too much, meeting his eyes as his skillful mouth sent her careening over the edge. She crashed hard, her noisy keening filling the console room as her body shuddered through an intensely satisfying orgasm.  
  
Her lover drew out every swell of pleasure with gradually subdued stimulation, until she was left trembling on the seat with a giddy smile on her face, smothering a breathless giggle into the back of her hand.  
  
 _Fuck_ , he was good at that.  
  
Rose felt weightless and heavy at the same time; physically relaxed as she was from the release, her emotions rode high on blissful affection as she took in the rumpled and thoroughly smug Time Lord kneeling between her legs. He smiled at her, lips wet and shining and eyes brimming with undisguised warmth.  
  
“Think we’re ready?” he asked.  
  
“Yeah…” Her response was more a breathless sigh than a word. She swallowed, trying to retain some semblance of composure. “Yeah, I think… it’s kinda hard to think right now…”  
  
He rewarded her with a fifthly grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”  
  
“You should.”  
  
She smiled indulgently, allowing him the ego trip — she figured he’d earned it. The answering look on his face was more fond than gloating, and it pulled at something deep within her heart.  
  
In the the last few months they’d spent learning all the ways to bring each other pleasure, Rose never doubted the furthering of their physical relationship was a gracious expression of their feelings towards one another. The doubts and insecurities that had assailed her before seemed small when he gazed at her like this; as though she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen among all the wonders of the universe.  
  
Not unlike catching his eyes as she reached the peak of pleasure, sometimes it became to much to hold his stare when he showed such raw devotion there. She found herself averting her eyes and fidgeting under his scrutiny, catching a wry smirk out of the corner of her eye that told her he _knew_ what he did to her.  
  
They could fuck like animals in heat and she didn’t feel shy in the least, but one sentimental look from those eyes — whether brown or blue — sent her blushing like a schoolgirl with her first crush. And he knew it, the bastard.  
  
Rose shifted, trying to right her disheveled clothing. “Help me…”  
  
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said, but obliged in tugging down her skirt. “They’re all coming off again.”  
  
“Yours, too.” She gestured to his own state of clothing, which was fully dressed save for his suit jacket. As he stood, she caught him adjusting the rather prominent erection in his trousers and — oh. “You’re still… I mean…”  
  
She bit her lip, fighting a smirk and another blush.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. “Fishing?”  
  
Rose laughed.  
  
“Not really. Just seems a bit uneven.”  
  
As she spoke, she reached out a hand, intending to touch him, but he caught it and squeezed her palm before she could.  
  
“I enjoy bringing you pleasure just as much as receiving it. I’m quite happy right now, I assure you.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “You should see yourself. Flushed pink and you’re practically glowing.”  
  
Rose ducked her head with a bashful smile. “Oh, god…”  
  
“It’s gorgeous.”  
  
His reverent tone sent her heartbeat skipping.  
  
“You should see you. With that smug look.”  
  
He made an exaggerated show of straightening his tie.  “I am quite good.”  
  
“You are,” she agreed, eyes skirting down to his trousers again on impulse. “Promise me, after. We’ll…” she trailed of meaningfully.  
  
“I’m counting on it.”  
  
“Good.” She stood up, her front nearly touching him in the small space afforded between the jump seat and the console. “I want to.”  
  
“Rose…” The Doctor closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, surely catching the scent of sex on her. “Keep tempting me and I’m not sure if we’ll make it.”  
  
“We don’t have to go right now.”  
  
He opened his eyes, regarding her seriously.  
  
“Do you want to put it off a little more?”  
  
“No. It’s kind of exciting.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “If you want to.”  
  
He nodded, a slow and determined gesture, his eyes intense. There was a sliver of restraint there, in the tautness of his muscles, his back tall and straight and his hands clenched into fists. He paused as though daring her to break it. When she didn’t, he sidestepped and turned himself to face the console, focusing on the controls under his fingers as he programmed their next destination.  
  
“So…” Rose began conversationally. “We’re going back to put on a show for our younger selves, so we start shagging in the first place?”  
  
“Causal loop. We have to complete the circuit. Give ourselves a little peek at the future — a teaser trailer, if you will. Or there could be a paradox, and we certainly don’t want that.”  
  
He looked up at her from across the console, the faint smile on his face belying the seriousness of his words.  
  
“No, we really don’t. Still.” She grinned, tongue poking through her teeth. “Saving the world with a shag.”  
  
He chuckled. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”  
  
Rose circled the console as he set the materialization sequence, staying within his eyesight but always out of reach. She knew if he got his hands on her now, they’d give in to a long night of passion and their trip would have to wait until another day.  
  
“You should have told me from the beginning.”  
  
He glanced at her sidelong, curiosity piqued by her statement.  
  
“What?”  
  
“When you asked me to come.” She sighed around a wistful smile. “Who knew time travel could be this sexy?”  
  
He waggled his eyebrows playfully. “You’re with me, Rose Tyler. ‘Course it’s sexy. Besides, you said ‘yes.’ In the end.”  
  
“Best decision of my life.”  
  
The Doctor flipped a lever that sent the ground beneath them shaking just a bit. The comforting sound of the TARDIS landing filled the air around them and everything went still. He took a step around the console, his hands finding their way into his pockets.  
  
“Better than forever?”  
  
There was a vulnerability in his tone, echoed in his eyes, that made her heart clench. She offered him a brilliant grin, instilling all sincerity in her answer.  
  
“Yes, Forever, I love you… all the same decision, Doctor. Just a different way to say it.”  
  
“Yes. Forever. I love you,” he parroted. “I quite like that.”  
  
A thrill chased through her at hearing all those words together at once from his lips. She heard them sometimes, saw them frequently in his eyes, and felt them often in his touch, his embrace, his kiss. They still hadn’t lost their novelty. She didn’t think they ever would.  
  
“Good.” She took a step towards him. “I mean it. All of it.”  
  
“Me too.” He took another step forward, until they were close once again. He lowered his head, breathing her in; his nose following the curve of her cheek, keeping just shy of touching her. “Rose…”  
  
His voice was low and strained and Rose knew she was in for it now. Anticipation coursed through her, the excitement building between them palpable, as though they were going right back to the start, toeing the line between friends and lovers and waiting for it to break. In a way, they were. The passion that was sure to burn today would inspire them to take the first step that would lead them here.  
  
Causal loops, indeed.  
  
“Save it for the show, love,” she said, her voice sounding low and husky without trying. “Let’s go to Tian.”  
  
He flashed a grin full of wicked promise and gestured to the door.  
  
“One trip to Paradise, here we go.”


End file.
